you starve us. first the drought, now you take what food we have left.
he died last winter.
norman swine! a boy of 12 springs from nowhere, thrusting a hay fork at gisborne's throat.
no, wulf! don't! 'twill only make it worse. wulf backs off. nostrils flaring with repressed hate.
i killed it. we needed the meat.
no, wulf! gisborne drags the boy to the carcass.
's not like t'others, john. oh god, it pains me so.
afore ya kill 'im, john, ask 'im if wulf be still alive. will is choking, unable to speak. john loosens his hold just enough for will to splutter out.
what about my boy?
seven!
them's safe, wi' my mother. robin, i been to town an' seen the scaffold and the guard towers.
you go an' birth eight babies and then you can come an' tell me 'bout hurtin', ya big ox. i ain't gonna sit aroun' an' let one o' 'em die, neither.
ain't doin' no 'arm, m'dear. likes a good 'angin', i do. luvly view up 'ere, ain't it? she gestures below. the sentry looks, then turns back to her.  notices the rope. with all her might, fanny rams his head into the stone battlement. twice. three times. he slumps unconscious.
'bout time, ya gurt lug. she wrenches the longbow from his back, fumbles for an arrow.
we be too late.
listen! outside, your countrymen rise against the sheriff.
is there one man or woman here who does not hate him? who has not suffered at his hand? turn that on the sheriff and his bullies. a deadly pause. a woman cook dumps the giant wedding cake right over the chef. suddenly it's havoc. flying food and cutlery.
are you 'urt?